eighteen

"Don't be fucking stupid, and we won't have this problem!" Michael yelled into the phone, rolling his eyes. 

He recited a few numbers into the phone before swirling around in his chair to face the window. Grey snow was covering the city, signs that spring was soon coming. 

"I hate to break it to you, but we own you and more importantly your business. If you have a problem with that, I will gladly see you in court." Michael slammed the landline onto its cradle, running a hand through his messy hair.

Luke laid in bed with a running nose and a pounding headache. He wasn't able to hold down food and he was convinced he was dying. Luke's lips were chapped from the constant mouth-breathing he was forced to do. 

He curled up, pulling his many sheets closer to his body. He wasn't able to focus on anything, his eyes swirling with the constant beat in his head. He let out a moan even though no one was around to hear it. 

Michael was over at Luke's that morning with food from Panera and lots of Advil. 

He felt bad for the little blonde, he looked so weak and frail. Michael knew Luke hated being sick. He hated the way it made him feel. He hated sitting in bed all day with nothing to do, Luke liked being busy. 

Plus, Luke hated doctors.

Mike was refiling his CD collection when the phone went off. The sudden sound surprised him, causing him to jump from his criss-cross seating underneath his desk and hit his head, hard. 

He made a face—today wasn't going alright. 

Michael rubbed the top of his head and sat back in his seat, scooting closer to his desk and picking up the phone. "Michael Clifford of C & C Incorporations," he sighed, reciting the line he's been saying for years. 

"Hi, Mr. Clifford, this is Dr. Christopher of West Hills Primary," a deep voice filled the phone. 

Michael sighed once more, knowing it was about Cy. "What'd he do now?"

"Cyril got into a very physical fight with a few kids this morning, and as I'm sure you're aware, that's his fifth one this year," Dr. Christopher was flipping through papers, looking up at the glaring fifteen-year-old in front of him a few times. "We have a very serious zero tolerance policy, and we've already let it slide a few times for Mr. Cyril."

They didn't let it slide, Michael brought in one of the most powerful lawyers and scared the school. "Okay, I'll come find someone to pick him up."

"You and I need to talk about possible expulsion, Mr. Clifford," he spoke sternly, like he was scolding Michael instead of Cy. 

This things happens a lot with Michael. Adults will underestimate Michael for no real reason. Michael is old enough to have a child, Cyril just happens to not be his child. 

They'll doubt his fatherly instincts. 

Michael cares a shit load for Cyril. More than some parents care for their own children, for sure. 

"We're pulling him out soon enough anyways, Mr. Christopher," Michael mimicked the older man's prestigious tone.

"It's Dr. Christopher."

"Dude, I don't care. Someone will be there in half an hour." For the sixth time that afternoon, Michael slammed the phone down, letting out a scream into his hands. 

To/ Lukey

hey, cy got into some stuff at school, i need you to pick him up

Luke was always up for an adventure, even when his head felt like it was exploding from his eardrums. 

To/ Mikey

???? ok ????? i'm dying currently tho???????? 

Michael let a smile rise to his mouth, he loved Luke. He really, really loved Luke.

To/ Lukey

you're not dying, put pants on, I'll send you an address in a few

Luke sighed, rolling off of his bed and onto the concrete floor with all of his sheets. He landed with a thud, and flinched at the sudden movement. Was it even safe for a human in his health to operate a car?

He got up, letting the blankets fall to his feet. He took out his phone again, sending another text that radiated sarcasm.

To/ Mikey

oh wait i forgot you got rid of my fucking car

"it's too old"

fuck that, it was my baby

Luke sent the three messages, leaving the screen open. He set his phone down on his dresser, trying to find  any clothes left at his own apartment. 

Even though he never really agreed to move in with the Cliffords', all of his clothes and every day items were already at their abnormally large house. 

To/ Lukey

I bought you a SUV that's not 12 years old, use it

by the way, they'll only let you pick up Cy if you're related, so say you're married to me, please? it'll make my life so much easier if I didn't have to go pick him up

Luke smiled as he read the text, he will gladly be referred to as Luke Clifford. He slid on black skinny jeans, groaning as he had to jump to get them past his thighs. He was in massive amounts of pain but he was sure Cy was, too. 

Just in a different way.

He slid on an old, black tee shirt as well. His drawers were basically empty, none of his skirts, dresses, nice shirts, or nice pants were anywhere to be seen. They somehow migrated over to Michael's place in the last few months. 

It was weird for Luke to think about how fast they were moving. It was like they were riding down the highway at ninety miles per hour, not caring about the sirens behind them, begging them to stop. 

It didn't bother him, at all. He loved being with Michael, he couldn't wait for the future. It was scary, it was weird, but it was alright. 

Maybe he wouldn't mind getting married. 

Luke put sunglasses on his nose, shoes on his feet, and hairspray in his hair. He (annoyingly) grabbed the keys to the SUV.

Locking the front door behind him, he read the address on his phone, opening maps to get him a route. Without traffic, it'd be about twenty minutes, but this is New York City. It should take about an hour, at least.

Michael sat in a meeting, his eyes falling lower as his secretary kicked him. He took a large inhale, sitting up again. He slid his phone out of his slacks pocket, putting it in his lap to look over missed notification. 

From/ Lukey

FUCK THIS PLACE IS HUGE

HE GOES TO SCHOOL HERE WHAT

IT'S LIKE SEVEN STORIES. THIS IS BIGGER THAN MY COLLEGE

HOLY WOOOOw i'm jealous rn where tf do i park

Michael smiled at Luke's reaction to seeing Cy's school. 

"What're you looking at, Mike? Got a boner or something?" A guy from accounting asked, causing the room to break out in to small chuckles.

Without looking up or changing from a monotone voice, he responded, "I sign all of your checks, I make sure you have a job. I suggest you don't start with me." His tone was annoyed, aggravated, irritated, piqued.

In all honestly, he was just bored to tears. 

Luke walked the empty halls, his Vans echoing through the hallways. The walls were tall, white stone, archways making the entire building look like a castle. 

He swung his car keys around his index finger. Every time he sniffled, it echoed through the empty halls. It make him uncomfortable, but he needed to breathe.

He reached the main office. Secretaries were wearing Kate Spade and Lilly Pulitzer, with thousand dollars of jewelry on their necks and ears, hands and wrists. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't jealous. 

Luke let out a subtle cough as he reached the first desk. "Hi, I'm here to pick up a student."

The lady didn't look up, simply continued clicking on her keyboard. She was chewing her gum loudly, completely ignoring Luke. 

"I can help you over here," the women at the far desk called, waving her hand.

Luke walked over there, his eyebrows furrowed as he debated mouthing off the other women. After watching Michael lose his temper more than once, Luke learned that being rude wasn't helping anything. "I'm here for Cyril."

"Ah, are you his brother?"

"No, I'm his brother-in-law," Luke stated as nicely as he could. He could feel his eyes sinking and his head spinning once more. He took an inhale and exhale, trying to get the headache to cease. 

The secretary tilted her head, "I didn't know Michael got married."

"Then you obviously don't know Michael," Luke stated, wiping any patience for this school off of his face. He was sick, he was tired, and he wanted to go home. 

"Alright, then. Dr. Christopher is the hallways behind you, third door on the left." She pointed to yet another dark, eerie hallway. 

Luke made his way down the hallway, not understanding their lack of lights. 

He counted the doors on the left, finding one half open. Luke placed a cold hand on the knob, turning it as he walked in. Cyril was siting on a chair, glaring at the old man across from him.

Cy was sassy, too. 

"I'm guessing you're here for Mr. Cyril?" The principal asked, wiping a wrinkly hand through his thinning grey hair.

"Yes, Sir." Luke stayed standing, hoping Cy would simply stand up and walk out. Luke looked at the brunette, his eye was purple and swollen, a few bruises and cuts scattered along his jaw and cheek. 

"Please, sit down. We have a bit to talk about."

The blonde sighed, taking a step towards. He sat down to Cy's left, looking at the younger boy with panicky eyes. He crossed his legs and faced their headmaster again, "I think it would be better to talk through Michael or his lawyers," Luke said. 

"How're you related to Cyril?" He asked, ignoring Luke.

"He's fucking my brother," Cy said through heavy eyelids. His face was in a permanent frown and Luke has never seen him like this.

"Cy!" Luke half said, half laughed. Luke realized he had to be the grown-up in this situation which fully petrified him. "I'm his brother-in-law."

Dr. Christopher glanced at Cy, the loss of hope in his eyes for the boy was bluntly obvious. "I'm sure you're aware of Cyril's record," he paused, "it's not very good."

"I think it's pretty good," Cy shrugged his shoulders. "If I wanted to be a drug dealer or a prisoner, man, I got it all worked out."

Luke bit his lip, trying to hide his smile creeping up on his face. He glanced at Cy, giving him a look. "I understand that, Sir. But I'm 100% positive that he didn't just have an outburst. Those kids are awful, they probably did something to provoke Cy." 

Cyril sat up taller, glad to have the blonde at his side.

"We talked to the boys, and they swore they did nothing."

Luke laughed, "You talked to the boys? You mean, the boys who punched Cy? That's like going to a murderer who is still holding the gun and asking if he shot someone. What do you think they're going to say?" Luke's blue eyes pierced through the principal's. 

"We have nothing else. Cyril has a—."

"It's Cy," the brunette interrupted.  

"—tendency to be violent. We don't allow such at our school."

"Okay," Luke said, biting his tongue, "let's get going. We have places to be." He stood up, broadening out his shoulders and straightening his back. "You'll be hearing from our lawyers." He nodded at the older man, turning his back and walking out. 

Cy was grinning behind him, following his fast footsteps with a skip in his step.

Once outside in the freezing cold, Cyril hugged Luke. He placed his arms tightly around Luke's waist and squeezed, resting his head on Luke's shoulder. 

Luke wrapped his arms around Cy's shoulder, "That school sucks ass."

"I know," he answered, muffled. Cy didn't let go, continued to hold onto Luke as if his life depended on it. 

Luke didn't realize he was crying until the brunette's shoulders started shaking.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Luke tilted his head back, looking down at Cyril. 

Cyril looked up at him, his eyes glassy and red. "I'm just really glad you're in my life."